Her Descent Into Darkness
by Miktap
Summary: Merlin's betrayal causes a rift in Morgana's soul, a target for darkness and hate to settle into, but it doesn't happen overnight. This story follows her transformation into a woman bent on revenge. Set after series 2 episode 12. Oneshot.


**Her Descent into Darkness**

 _"Thank you." She gives him a small smile, trying to convey how much she appreciates his care for her. Hands the water skin back._

 _Moments later, something closes around her throat. She can't breathe, can't scream, can't call for his help. Can only feel the panic rising, and along with it, the sharp stabbing pain in her heart that comes with the realization of his betrayal. Of Merlin's betrayal._

 _Strong arms wrap around her. She tries to push away, to escape from the reality that, for some reason unbeknownst to her, he wants her dead. The feeling of being strangled increases tenfold, everything starts to blur into a vortex of pain and fear._

* * *

Morgana awakes with a piercing shriek. The blanket that covers her on the small cot has suddenly become an enemy, trying to squeeze the air out of her lungs. She fights it, eventually manages to untangle herself from it and kicks it off. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to catch her breath.

When she calms down enough to risk taking a look at the cold world around her, she doesn't see the pair of shockingly blue eyes she is expecting. Instead they are a deep brown, set in a face framed by blonde hair.

Disconcerted, it takes her a moment to find her voice. "Morgause?" she asks shakily. The woman in front of her gives a small nod.

"Yes, Sister. I am here."

"Where-" Morgana begins, but her face crumples as images from her nightmare come flooding back. She feels arms wrap around her again, but this time it is comforting. Sobbing, she buries her face in her sister's shoulder and cries until she is once again gasping for air.

"I- my dream- I had a nightmare," she manages to croak out, hesitantly pulling out of the embrace. "Merlin, he- he poisoned me. He wanted me dead. I don't know why. He's my friend. I don't understand." She can feel the hysteria rising again and pauses to compose herself. "I've never had a nightmare like this one before. I don't understand..." she trails off, looking at Morgause's solemn face, noting her downcast eyes.

Then, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings, she feels a dark tendril of dread rise in her gut.

"It wasn't a dream, was it," she states more than asks. Her sister meets her gaze and gives the slightest shake of her head.

She can't breathe again. The dread has taken hold of her throat, she is choking. This time the hysteria cannot be contained. It shatters the cage that her wild emotions have made over her voice, and she lets out a haunting wail like she has just been betrayed by her best friend. Because she has been.

Logic warring in her head. _It can't be- he wouldn't._ But the voice of truth even deeper in her mind says, " _He did"._ And this knowledge cuts her deeper than any physical wound possibly could. Another long, keening cry escapes from her lips. She is hyperventilating, she is going to be sick, she can't take this.

As the dark reality of the situation overwhelms her, she doesn't notice the effects she is having on the old building around them. Her eyes are flashing gold now and Morgause warily glances at the walls, which are quaking in response to her sister's outburst.

"Sister..." she reaches out a hand and gently places it on Morgana's shoulder. Rather than soothing the young woman, it infuriates her.

"Don't TOUCH me!" she screams. "LEAVE me and let me die!" At Morgause's bewildered expression, her angry facade crumbles and she is bawling again. Huge, racking sobs that shake her to her very core.

She curls into a ball on the cot, defeated. Gradually, over what seems like hours, her wails turn into whimpers, and, exhausted from the events and realizations of the day, she drops into a restless sleep.

* * *

Morgause is by her side the entire time. She watches her sister tossing and turning, mumbling incomprehensible words every so often. Her expression is distressed, and a tear rolls down her cheek. She hears her moan, "No, Merlin. Why..."

She notices that Morgana is wearing the bracelet she had given her just months ago. While it stops her nightmares, or, more correctly, her visions, it is unfortunately powerless against these memories that are tormenting her.

Raising her hand and murmuring a spell, Morgause smiles softly as the expression of her younger sister's face changes to one of peace and she rests. This is much better. She will need to be rested, mentally prepared for what is to come. She will need to be alert in order to properly practice the magic that she is about to learn.

The soft smile morphs into a wicked smirk.

 _We have much to discuss, Sister._

* * *

She has been very silent recently, spending most of her time lying on her cot facing the old stone wall. Seemingly studying the patterns hidden in the design, but really only staring blankly out of sightless eyes. Asking herself over and over- _Why?_ She doesn't understand, doesn't think she ever will. Doesn't know if she really wants to.

Every minute of the day has been plagued with that moment playing itself _over_ and _over_ in her mind. Add the complete and utter confusion and pain that she is feeling, and it is enough to drive her mad.

 _Maybe I_ am _mad,_ Morgana thinks. _Maybe I have been mad this entire time, thinking that we were friends, thinking I could trust him, that he trusted me. That he cared..._

Don't go there. Don't think about the fact that she had, at one point, thought that they had something... more. The way he smiled at her. Would bring her flowers. The way his presence and cheeky jokes could make her spirits light even on the worst of days.

She lets out a harsh laugh at her own foolishness, yet at the same time a tear trickles down her cheek.

Morgause glances at her out of the corner of her eyes, but says nothing. She has learned over the past week that when her sister is angry or in pain, or as in this case, _both_ , it is much safer not to disturb her. There have been too many close calls with the abandoned building nearly collapsing on the both of them to risk triggering another emotionally charged magical storm.

Not that she will ever admit it, but Morgause has actually felt scared of her sister's powers when she's gone out of control. And she is a powerful sorceress in her own right, a High Priestess of the Old Religion.

But. This pain and anger will make her so much easier to control, to warp. It will make her such a powerful _weapon._

Having fallen into silence again, Morgana continues to stare coldly at the wall. Warm tears streaming down her face.

* * *

When her sister has moments of calm, or at least seems less likely to bring their shelter down upon them, Morgause strikes. She takes advantage of her fragile emotional state to slowly twist her mind according to her own plans.

One of the evenings that Morgana is having a difficult time sleeping, Morgause sits next to her and strokes her hair soothingly. "Shhh... I'm here for you. I understand you, how you're feeling and who you are. Not like _them_. We're sisters, Morgana. I'll _always_ be here for you. I promise, I will never betray you like that." She speaks in a soft voice that is almost hypnotic.

The younger woman cracks open her eyes. Whispers plaintively, "But... it's not _all_ of them. He's the only one who's tried to hurt me."

The blonde clucks her tongue quietly. "Sister, you don't honestly believe that he will be the only one who will ever hurt you?" Wide green eyes meet dark, brown ones filled with a false pity. "The world is a cruel place. People will do anything to you if they feel they will benefit from it some way. He won't be the last, Morgana. I'm the only one who you can trust."

The green eyes narrow somewhat. They've seen enough politics in court to recognize something is amiss with this conversation. One person trying to comfort another wouldn't use lines like these... But the part of her that needs reassurance from someone, _anyone_ , shakes away the voice of reason. The poison she is being fed, harmful and vile as it is, is too appealing to push away right now. _Morgause will never betray me._

Not realizing how untrue that thought is, she gives in and begins to fall asleep to her sister's gentle but twisted words of understanding.

* * *

Soon they will be moving on. Making the journey from their drab shelter through Essetir to meet Cenred and further discuss their plans.

 _The plans..._

Morgana isn't sure how to feel about this whole "Take over Camelot" scheme. Yes, she wants Uther dead. Now more than ever. But... she has friends there that are like her family. Arthur and Gwen. She is wary of hurting them, doesn't want to, even though some of her "friends" clearly don't feel the same way towards her.

She lets out a rattling sigh. There she goes, thinking about the incident again. About _him_ again. The poisoning and how he was the last person she would have _ever_ expected to turn on her like this. Evidently, _he_ has no problem hurting his friends, trying to kill them.

This thought slowly grows to encompass her other friends back in Camelot. What if they will feel the same way once they know she has magic? Replaying the past few years over in her head, trying to determine what convinced Merlin, of all people, to make an attempt on her life. The only logical reason would be because she confided in him about her magic. Making him fear her and ultimately, hate her.

She won't realize the irony of that thought for years to come.

And he, as her sister pointed out to her, wasn't even originally from Camelot. If someone relatively new to the country can be made to feel that way within a matter of three years, imagine how people who have lived there for their entire lives, with Uther's hateful prejudice driven into them on a daily basis, will react.

Of course they will feel the same way. Arthur and Gwen. Two of her oldest friends, who she is now sure will hate her once they know the truth. Will also want her dead.

And this revelation is what begins to make her turn, to see the world as a dark place, in which the only possible way to survive is to darken her own soul in defence. This is what causes the crack left by Merlin's betrayal to become a chasm in her heart, desperately needing to be filled. Reaching out for what is closest.

And what is closest is the darkness and revenge offered by Morgause.

* * *

She has snapped.

It's been nearly four months now, and she is fully immersed in her training. Completely dedicated to their cause. Cenred is an arrogant pig, but he also wants Uther to fall, and Morgause seems to trust him. Or, at least, knows how to use him.

Her new found paranoia of those she used to trust, used to love, has now, truly, begun to drive her mad. She just doesn't know it.

What she does know is that everything has a startling clarity that wasn't there a few weeks ago. She has learned to channel her feelings of hurt and sadness into anger, into power. She now has a goal, streamlined and straight forward, and she _will_ achieve it.

Her nightmares have changed, however. Now rather than the poisoning plaguing her dreams night after night, she keeps seeing the sorrow that was in his eyes as he held onto her. And this haunts her. Wondering how he could do this to her and then _pretend_ to be so remorseful. It's disgusting.

Not realizing that it was in fact genuine sorrow in his eyes, that it had torn his heart apart to kill her, this vision progressively causes her heart to harden against him. She hates him so very much.

Blasting apart a target with her magic sends a thrill rushing through her veins. A manic grin plasters itself on her face as she whirls to face Morgause, who nods proudly. How she cannot _wait_ to unleash her powers on her enemies. The thought is exhilarating.

Looking at her eyes now, she hardly seems to be the same person. The green eyes that used to be vibrant and warm are now hard and borderline insane. Yet the darkness has not completely eaten away at her soul. There is still a spark of the kind, loyal, and courageous person she once was. Putting up a fierce fight initially. Now it is fading quickly.

And when it fades completely, Morgana, daughter of Gorlois, will wreak havoc on those who have hurt her. Who will hurt her.

She _will_ have her revenge.


End file.
